Three Years / Fragments
fragments
Climbing up the rocks at Calico Basin. Jumping into the high winds on the plateau and the sensation of lift and momentary flight. Ecstatic faces and yelling…
Jumping into the frigid waters of Ocean Shores on the Olympic Peninsula. Salty exhilaration and the mighty waves. Joyce’s phrase “scrotum-tightening sea” came to mind…
The soreness of an epic game of “Slug Bug” during the first day of a two day journey by Greyhound from Las Vegas to Seattle. We were both ruthless, with eyes scanning in every direction on the way through California. Small sleep in the night and waking up in Oregon. Smell of pines and the feeling of north.
The bus stopped for breakfast at Heaven On Earth. Largest cinnamon rolls we’ve ever seen…
Shaun working quietly and dutifully shelving books among the isles and the sea of spines at Amazon…
His first stab at gardening – planting some potatoes along the edge of Paige’s parent’s patio and being so impatient that he ate them directly from the earth before they were ready…
Pulling the car over spontaneously to dance to Zeppelin’s “Immigrant Song” by the side of the road…
His room at his parents with scattered clothes and teenage disarray and listening to “Daydream Nation” and “Athens, GA Inside and Out”…
Shaun rarely used public transportation. If he wanted to come over he’d generally walk an hour or two to any point in the city…
Shaun,
It is true. You come to us all in dreams. I take walks now instead of run, but I can still hear you talk and sing alongside me, like you used to in track practice, when you were 15. I still see visions of us both, crossing finish lines for our teams at cross-country meets, on the the most brutal hot days, coughing dust and holding our sides. We outran those kids from Basic, despite their dirty tactics.
You cheered for me, I for you, loud and encouraging. I still hear you.